


Interlude

by orphan_account



Series: Lewis Family Traditions [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-10
Updated: 2013-11-17
Packaged: 2018-01-01 01:13:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 3,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1038581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A selection of one-shots from Entrenchment that didn't quite fit within the original timeline, centered around Darcy's relationships with Simon and Clary and their ilk. These aren't in chronological order, they're just posted when they're written.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Pandemonium, Or Some Explanations Require Alcohol

_Darcy's been back in New York for three months and she's only seen Phil once since their wedding. Simon is apparently a vampire, his roommate is a werewolf, and Darcy needs a drink._

\--

"How long have you known about Simon?"

Clary sighs heavily as she flags down the bartender, who Darcy is at least 60% sure isn't totally human. "As long as he has. I was there for his transformation. It wasn't a good time."

Darcy snorts. "At least I know why mother dearest hates him so much now."

The bartender slides down to them. "Well well, a Nephilim and a gods-touched. What can I get you?"

"Just a beer, thanks. Darce?"

"Vodka coke, and a weapon of some kind to kill people with."

The bartender laughs melodically and tuns away to grab their drinks.

"What did she mean, Nephilim and gods-touched?"

"Well, Simon and Jordan aren't the only supernatural creatures roaming New York. Me and Jace and all them, we're Nephilim, descendants of the angel Raziel, warriors with a divine mandate to fillet demons. Of which there are lots."

Darcy blinks uncomprehendingly at Clary. "I am in no way drunk enough for this. What about--"

"The god thing? No clue. Magnus-- he's a warlock-- said there's something freaky in your aura, like you were marked or something."

"Oh, okay, that's something I could totally explain except that it's literally classified because my internship was super fucked up."

The bartender pushes their drinks at them. Darcy's has a little plastic sword in it.

"The _world_ is super fucked up," Clary grumbles sagely.

"Preach, sister."


	2. Pots, Kettles, and the Importance of Healthy Communication

"You're different, Darce."

Darcy snorts. "Pot, kettle, kiddo."

They're sprawled out on the bed in their room, passing a joint between them like when Darcy would come home on summer break and she and Simon would lay out on their roof, slow cooking into lobsters. They were twins, still, back then, before they wore their secrets like armor. Two years apart and nearly identical, they were inseparable from the moment Simon was born.

"You know why I'm different. I died and came back a bloodsucker and then died again. You're still acting like nothing happened to you when I can tell something did. You can't hide from me forever, Darcy."

Darcy threads her fingers through her brothers. "There was this guy. Well, there is this guy. I love him. But I haven't seen him since I came home and I've hardly heard from him and even though I know he loves me I'm still worried, you know? There's a lot that can go wrong, especially with him. And there's some stuff I can't tell you, can't tell nearly anyone, cause it's not safe."

Simon sighs, and kisses Darcy on the shoulder. "I shouldn't have to worry about my big sis. It should be the other way around."

Darcy smiles. "You got that right, kid."


	3. Conference, Or Improper Uses of Fire Escapes

Jane is in town for a conference, and since somehow she successfully petitioned fury to let Erik attend with her, Clint is in town too. Darcy, ever the opportunist, grabs her second favorite spy guy and makes him get drunk on the fire escape with her. 

"How is he?"

"He's good. He misses you."

"Yeah, well, he's the one with a helicarrier."

Clint raises his eyebrows. "Trouble in paradise?"

Darcy glares at him over her bottle of wine. "I haven't gotten laid in like four months."

"Shit."

"Yeah." They sit and ponder that relevation for several silent minutes. "If he doesn't get his ass out here before Christmas, I'm filing for divorce. There's only so much phone sex a girl can take."

"Yeah I didn't need to know that detail."

"If I promise not to regale you with the dirty deets will you help me lure him out here?"

"Well--"

"It's that or I tell you every last nasty about every single time I did it with your boss until you either die of embarassment or you're forced to just take me to the helicarrier."

"It's times like these I realize why he married you."

Darcy grins ferociously and takes a long drink from her bottle. "Like you could ever forget. I mean, have you seen me?"

  
  
The next morning, after her hangover has subsided and she's retrieved Clint from the roof, Darcy gets dressed all professional and goes to the conference. Halfway through lunch with Jane, the miniature scientist gets up to take a call, and within moments Phil slides into her empty seat. 

Darcy, because she is a grown-ass woman, only screams a little bit. 

"You know, Darce, I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't get my assets drunk and convince them to call me on your behalf."

"Oh, so you got our voicemails?"

"All six of them. Not including the one with the rhyming, I'm pretending that one didn't happen."

"That one was Clint's idea."

"I deeply regret letting you two bond."

Darcy laughs, then stands and walks around the small table to pull Phil up for a hug. He holds her tight, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. 

"I missed you."

"I hate your stupid secret job."

"I know."


	4. Reset, Or Magnus Isn't A Goddamn Therapist

"I'm worried about her, Simon. She's obviously not doing okay."

Simon sighs heavily, rubbing a hand over his face. "I know. But she won't talk to me. She's barely told me anything about where she was all last year. I know there was a guy, and I know that he got her involved in some scary stuff, but beyond that?"

"She isn't telling me anything either. I only know she's pregnant because I figured it out on my own."

"She's what?"

Clary pales. "Oh, shit. I figured she'd told you."

"Add it to the list, I guess," Simon suggests darkly. "I thought it was just a research position."

"Yeah."

"She has nightmares, Clary, bad ones. I don't think she sleeps, most nights, if I'm not there."

"Maybe Jace was right, we should have kept her out of all our stuff."

"No, this isn't our brand of crazy. She talks, about New Mexico and fire and other people." Simon sits back. "I wish there was something I could do, but she won't let me in."

Clary swallows nervously. "Simon, what if there were something we could do?"

 

"No, absolutely not."

"Magnus!"

"Even if I wanted to, which I don't, I wouldn't be able to do it! Her mark functions as a ward, even with her explicit consent I couldn't do anything. And anyways, Clary, I'm shocked you're even asking, after what your mother did to you."

"This is different, Magnus, it's for her own good. She's miserable, and she won't talk to either of us."

"Have you considered that maybe she'd rather not discuss her feelings with two meddlesome teenagers she's known their entire lives?"

Simon snarls. "Oh, because you have such a good handle on what makes my sister tick."

"No, daylighter, but I am much much more experienced in these matters than you. I've been dealing with sibling crises since the days of the prodigal son. So pull your bloodsucking head out of your posterior."

"We're not asking for a full wipe, like you did with me. Just something to help her get past this. She barely eats, she won't leave her room, we're scared for her."

Magnus sighs heavily. "I know. But grief is best dealt with in the normal ways. I wouldn't be able to make it go away, only the immediate cause. And isn't that worse? What Darcy needs is time, plain and simple."


	5. Revisionism

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one takes place between chapters nine and ten of Entrenchment.

"Sir, what do we tell his wife?"

Fury turns, eyebrows raised. "His wife?"

Hill frowns. "Yes, sir. Darcy, I think."

Fury sighs. "Motherfucker never tells me anything." He rubs a hand over his face. "I take it she's a civilian?"

Hill nods. "Yes, sir."

"Phil Coulson is dead. Give her his effects, and leave it at that."

Hill hesitates. "I'm under the impression that she is quite close with Agent Barton."

Fury narrows his eye. "Hold up. Are you telling me that Phil married Darcy Lewis? From New Mexico?"

"I believe so."

Fury laughs, startling Hill. "Well I'll be goddamned. Romanov was right."

Hill rolls her eyes. "She usually is, sir."

"My order still stands, though. She doesn't have the clearance for this. Hold off on telling Barton and the team until we're certain Phil'll pull through."


	6. Gross Misuses of SHIELD Resources

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A slice of Clint's POV from ch1 of Entrenchment.

Clint is pretty sure he's never seen a more adorable couple than Coulson and Darcy. Even though Clint is perfectly aware that Coulson can kill him in twelve different ways without lifting a finger, he can't imagine of a better match for his boss than Darcy, young though she is. Clint is pretty sure he should be more afraid of Darcy than he is, which is confirmed when he mentions this to Natasha and she just raises an eyebrow, like "way to be late to the party, doofus.

He's surprised, nonetheless, when Darcy slides onto the barstool next to him at the bar, shoving her hand in his face. "Look, look, Clint, look!"

Clint blinks in surprise, grabbing her hand and pulling it out of his eyeballs. "Hot damn, Darce. That's a hell of a rock you got there."

Darcy bounces in her seat, grinning like a fool. "I know!"

"When'd he ask you?" Clint is really very impressed by the ring, a huge square cut diamond surrounded by two rings of tiny carbonado diamonds, the band lined in the same.

"Last night. It was so romantic."

Clint snorts. "I'm still struggling with the whole Coulson being romantic thing. Before you, the only thing I saw him get sentimental about was his car."

Darcy elbows Clint. "Classy, Katniss."

Clint shrugs, smirking. "So you have a date yet? Gonna have a big white wedding? Twelve flower girls? Thor in a bridesmaids dress?"

Darcy's face falls. "Nah. I think we're just gonna do it at the courthouse before I have to go home and you all move on base."

Clint frowns. "I'm surprised they didn't offer to let you keep working with Jane. It's not like she actually gets along with her other interns."

"Yeah, but they actually know what they're doing, and apparently that's more important." Darcy shrugs, sighing.

"We'll see if that's still the line when Jane loses her grip on reality and starts to eat their entrails."


	7. The Veil Withdrawn

"Divine mandate to filet demons, eh?"

Clary and Simon look up from the couch at Darcy, who's just come back from her walk. "Essentially."

"Where's Isabelle?"

"She went to talk to Alec. Magnus' been wanting to tell you for ages, he's got this weird thing about your aura."

Darcy blinks, kicks off her shoes, and settles into the loveseat. "Alright, then. So are you a Spike or an Angel?"

Clary snorts. "Spike circa being chained up in Giles' bathtub."

Darcy heaves an exaggerated sigh. "Man, my loser brother is a loser vampire." She looks over at Simon. "You are such a disappointment."

Simon just sticks out his tongue, fangs bared.

"And Clary? How long have you been a scary demon serial killer? Slash, what sort of demon are we talking? Possession, eldrich, what?"

Clary shrugs. "A bit of this, a bit of that. I only found out at the start of the summer. Simon, too, he only just got turned."

"Jesus, I leave for six months and everything goes to pot."

"For a while she thought Jace was her brother." Simon is truly determined to get back at Clary for outing him.

Darcy winces. "That's rough, bro. So he's one of your cult too?"

"Him, Isabelle, Alec, my mom. It's a hereditary thing. See, um," Clary fidgets, "we're technically not human."

"Oh, spectacular. Good to know. Luke isn't one, is he?"

"Not for like a decade," Simon crows gleefully, "he's a werewolf."

"Is there anyone in our lives unsullied by the supernatural?"

Clary and Simon frown at each other. "Not really? It's just you."

Darcy snorts. "Ah." She sighs again. "So Simon's a vamp, Luke's a werewolf, and the rest of you are, like, Nephilim?"

"Shadowhunters."

Darcy squints. "So like, proper Nephilim? In the biblical sense? Well, I guess not in the biblical sense, they were supposed to be hideous."

"Sort of? There was this guy, and he drank the blood of the angel Raziel, and then it all sort of spiraled from there. No actual mating with angels." Clary pauses, distaste flashing over her face. "Well, mostly."

"Oh, and there's a faerie kingdom under Central Park."

"I hate you all."


	8. Nightmares

Darcy wakes up tangled in her blankets, shaking, gasping. Simon is curled around her, sleeping, and Darcy pushes him away, extricating herself from the bed. She staggers into the bathroom, locking the door behind her and sitting on the edge of the tub. She's in Puente Aguinto again, except this time the Destroyer isn't defeated, this time she can feel her skin scorch and crack. Darcy stands shakily, turning on the shower and stripping off her clothes. She stands in the freezing spray, reminding herself that it's over, that she's safe.

It's harder to convince herself, now. She can't go find Phil at his watch station, can't curl up at his side, can't even call him. Darcy is alone now, and the world is more dangerous for it.

She stays in the shower until her skin begins to prune, until her shakes make way for shivers, until she can no longer feel her toes against the tile.

 


	9. "Normal"

"Oh, that's truly disgusting."

Simon looks up, panicked. "Darcy!" He swallows, licking cold blood off his lips. "I thought you'd gone out with that scary redhead."

"Something came up," Darcy mutters, still staring at the bottle in her brother's hand. "So, are you gonna tell me what's going on here?"

"He's a vampire." Clary sweeps in from the living room, playing with a knife. 

"Clary!" Simon squeaks, his eyebrows shooting into his hairline.

Darcy looks back and forth between Simon and Clary a few times, and then takes a seat at the island. "I mean, that totally answers a lot of my questions."

"It was about time you were told. I thought you'd have figured it out by now." Isabelle enters behind Clary, looking bored.

"I've had other things on my mind," Darcy says darkly, clenching her fists. 

Isabelle flinches slightly as Clary elbows her sharply in the ribs. 

Darcy puts her head in her hands. "Clint is gonna love this," she murmurs to herself. "Go home Darcy, get your life back to normal, Darcy, avoid Gods and Godkillers and ancient weapons that defy the laws of physics, chill with your normal brother and his normal friends, I should just move back to the middle of nowhere, at least in New Mexico I knew where the weirdos were."

"Are you alright, Darcy?" Isabelle is watching her curiously.

Darcy sits up, glaring magnificently at Simon and Clary. "I need to go debrief for a while," she says, standing and grabbing her purse from the counter. "If you're not still here when I'm back, I swear on all the Gods I know, even your crazy divine-mandated thuggish selves will suffer. Capice?"

Simon and Clary share a look of slight terror, and Isabelle swallows nervously. Darcy takes that as an affirmative and leaves, calling Clint on her way out of the building. 

"Hi Darce!" Clint answers promptly, disgustingly cheerful.

"Hey, Clint."

"Uh-oh. Who's in trouble?" 

"It's a long story."

"You wanna tell me what's up, or do you want to just seethe for a while?"

Darcy sighs heavily. "I have a feeling that I may be sweeping up my brother's ashes later."

"Um." Clint frowns audibly. "Should I be worried?"

"I think I can handle this one. Relatedly, I gotta talk to Jane. I'd've called her directly, but she no longer answers her phone."

"Yeah, she's been holed up in the labs with Banner and Stark all week. Last I heard they were convincing Cap to let them try to teleport him across town."

Darcy rolls her eyes. "When the world inevitably ends, it will be their fault."


	10. Tea

"How well do you know Darcy?"

Clary turns her head to look at Magnus, who's sprawled over a damasked velvet setee, wearing a 1920's bathing costume. "Really well. She's as much my older sister as she is Simon's." Clary pauses, scooting closer to one of the dozen or so fans scattered across the room. "Why?"

Magnus purses his thin lips, heaving a great sigh. "Well, your friend seems to be god-touched."

"What?" Clary sits up, startling Chairman Meow off her chest, to his great displeasure.

"I've never seen that particular claim, though," the warlock continues as if Clary hadn't interrupted, "it's not in any of the traditional forms. It's not even derived from enochian or aramaic. If anything, it's reminiscent of old norse, but I'm no expert."

"Never heard you say that before," Alec drawls, coming in from the kitchen with a pitcher of iced mint tea.

Clary is still staring at Magnus, even as Isabelle drifts in after Alec, carrying several chilled glasses. 

"What aren't you an expert in?" Isabelle sits down next to Clary, handing her a glass.

"Divine markings derived from old norse," says Magnus haughtily.

Alec snorts. "Is anyone?"

Clary blinks. "Can we get back to the part where my best friend's sister is apparently under divine influence?"

"I think you can get arrested for that in Portugal."

"Magnus!"

Isabelle frowns, taking the pitcher from Alec. "Darcy is the most mundane mundane I've met, after Simon."

Alec raises an eyebrow at his sister. "I thought you liked her."

"I do. She's blunt and also violent. But she's also exceedingly human." Isabelle hands the pitcher to Clary, who nearly drops it.

"What is this, solid diamond?"

"It's bigger on the inside. So you don't have to refill it as often. I got it off this gypsy in southern California, lovely woman, she had the biggest nose I've ever seen." Magnus pokes at Alec, who's sat down on the little free space on the setee. "No, too hot, move."

Alec rolls his eyes, and relocates to the floor with Isabelle and Clary. "So Simon's sister is some sort of abdal?"

"No, it's more direct than that. She is quite literally god-touched, you can read it in her aura."

"But she's just Darcy. She's not even religious, not like Simon is. Like, that's why she doesn't get along with their mom."

"They remind me of the Rings of Charlemagne, you know, the lukkustafir that the angels handed down to Pope Leo III."

"Luck-sta-what?"

"They're a type of rune, from the old Icelandic Grimoires."

"And you say you're not an expert." Alec lays back against the floor, rolling his eyes.

"Can you draw it for me?" Clary sets down her glass and reaches for her sketchpad, open to a half-finished drawing of Magnus's lazy pose. 

"Of course." Magnus sits up, taking the pad and pen. "There's a guy who lives down in the harbor, a water sprite, I think he used to be up in the north sea. He might be able to decipher it."

"This really bothers you, huh?" Alec eyes Magnus warily, brow slightly furrowed.

"Of course it bothers me. The daylighter has a sister that just happens to have been hanging around with a divine being?" Magnus pouts. "It's just improbable. Here." He hands Clary his drawing.

"Huh." Clary stares at it, nose wrinkled.

"You know, he has a point. It's weird that you just casually collected mundanes determined to not be." Isabelle pushes Chairman Meow away from her glass. "It's like you're a magnet for weird stuff."

"Darcy said the same thing," Clary notes absently, still studying the rune. "This looks familiar, but I can't figure out why."

"Well, I'll send a message to George, see what he thinks."

"That's a terrible name for a water sprite."

"You're a terrible name for a water sprite."

"That doesn't even make sense."

**Author's Note:**

> Sequel out this Thursday (11-21-13).


End file.
